Chapter X: On the Rise...
Location: Sparring Arena, Shadow of Intent
Date: Sunday, October 21, 2558 (UNSC Calendar)
Ship Clock: 13:55 hours
Paul patiently stood in the ring and waited for Talu 'Lour as other Sangheili began filing into the room to watch. "I see that word spreads quickly," he called to the crowd, receiving a few chuckles; most on board who knew him liked the Captain.
"You've got this, Cap'n," Sean Bradley called from their group in the stands.
"We will see about that," Talu suddenly stated, entering the ring in his full armor.
Paul raised an eyebrow. "We're fighting hand-to-hand, Field Marshall. No armor."
Talu shrugged and removed the pieces. Once he was down to the body suit, he entered a fighting stance, Paul doing likewise; he was wearing his BDU pants and a tan t-shirt. "Strange apparel for a sparring match," Talu commented.
"Not for me. I'm a soldier, I fight in this every day," Paul shrugged. "Call it!"
They both charged as soon as the chime sounded. Talu threw a punch which Paul dodged, taking the opportunity to trip Talu onto his belly. "He is toying with me," Talu thought as Paul immediately backed off, letting him stand. They circled each other for a few moments before Talu spun for a kick. He was surprised Paul caught his leg, delivered three quick punches to his abdomen, then kicked his other leg out from under him, causing him to back-flop onto the mat.
"Tell me, Field Marshall. You are undefeated in this ring, yes?" Paul said as Talu stood.
"Definitely toying with me," he thought as they circled each other again. "That is correct, human. And so I shall remain after this match."
Paul chuckled. "Arrogance. Isn't it grand?" he said sarcastically.
Talu growled and charged, attempting to tackle, but Paul dodged and kicked him in the back of his legs, causing him to kneel. Paul quickly landed a blow with his knee in Talu's abdomen, landing a punch to the side of the temple afterward. When Talu awoke a minute later, he saw a blurry form standing over him. After blinking several times, he saw that it was the human, Captain Fulmer, standing there with his hand extended down to him. Talu growled and ignored the offer, deciding to stand without help. As he moved to walk away, he heard a voice call, "Not so fast, Field Marshall!" He turned around, seeing Rtas standing in the ring with his arms crossed. "I believe that you are forgetting something."
Talu looked over at the human, expecting to see a smug expression or arrogant grin, but a blank expression met his gaze. He sighed and walked back to the ring. He bowed to the human and formally stated, "You have bested me..."
"Captain Paul Fulmer," the man answered, returning the bow. "It was an honor to be pitted against you, Field Marshall."
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Rtas said as they both straightened.
Paul shrugged. "It part of my training as a UNSC Ranger. I just so happened to excel in the hand-to-hand portion." He then extended his hand to Talu. "If you don't mind, I would like to teach your men this form of hand-to-hand combat."
"Actually, Captain," Rtas began before they could shake hands. "It would be excellent if you could teach a class aboard this ship, strictly voluntary."
Paul nodded. "What do you guys think?" he said to his squadmates, receiving nods of approval. "Shipmaster, may I?" When Rtas tilted his head, Paul whispered something to him.
Rtas nodded. "You may."
"Attention!" Everyone straightened, even officers that would outrank him. Paul turned to Garek and smirked, then signaled for his squad to stand with him. "At ease," he said with a laugh. "By show of hands, how many would like to attend this course?" Paul counted fifty volunteers, most of which were lower-ranking infantry. "Those who raised their hands, please get into groups of ten." After they had done so, "Group 1, you're under my supervision, Group 2 is with 2nd Lieutenant 'Izak, Group 3, Sergeant First Class 'Tsom, Group 4, Sergeant 'Drakos, and Group 5, 2nd Lieutenant Madera. The officers are going to receive advanced training so that they may pass on their knowledge if they like. Field Marshall," Paul began, but noticed that Talu had left. He shrugged and turned back to his group. "Okay everyone, get with a partner. I'm warning you now, if you get angry with your partner, or are needlessly violent, you will be removed. No excuses, no exceptions."
Ship Clock: 17:00 hours
Talu sighed and rubbed the side of his already-bruised head as he sat down. "Beaten by someone below myself in rank; a human, no less," he said to himself.
"There is no shame in losing, Field Marshall," Rtas suddenly said from the doorway. Talu tiredly looked up at the Shipmaster; his head was still swimming from Paul's punch to his temple. "It is a sacrifice we all make as soldiers, a debt that all men pay."
"Why are you in a uniform, Shipmaster?" Talu said. "Are you one of them?"
"I am the Supreme Commander of the TRF," Rtas replied simply.
"What is the 'TRF'?"
"The Tactical Response Force, better known as 'Project: Phoenix'. As you may have already figured out, it is a Joint Operations task force comprised of Sangheili and Human squads; Captain Fulmer's being among the best so far. Staff Sergeant 'Asar's has also proven to be highly skilled."
"How can you stand to work with...them?" Talu said quietly.
Rtas raised a brow. "They are not that bad. Some have proven to be…difficult, but some of our people are not much better," he said, glaring at Talu. "It has been six years since the Schism, and you are acting as if it has been six minutes. And do not give me that 'they are weak' nonsense; I believe that Captain Fulmer just showed you otherwise in the sparring ring."
Talu sighed. "That he did," he agreed, rubbing his head. "It was not that hard of a blow, how did he knock me out?"
"He hit a pressure point just above your temple. If you would have stayed, you could have found that out for yourself," Rtas said, crossing him arms. "If you still think that these humans are weak, watch these recordings," he said, placing some small chips on the desk and walking out. Talu picked one up and stared at it for a few minutes before retrieving his datapad. He sat back in his chair and watched as PFC Toma 'Ahur's recording began to play.
Local Time: 19:00 hours
"That was amazing, Captain," Q'to said as he watched the recording that Ar'n had taken of the sparring match.
Paul shrugged as he looked over his cards. "It would've been more challenging if he weren't so arrogant," he said, glancing up from his hand.
"I don't understand this game," Ahli sighed.
"It's really simple, Ahli. I'm out," Rotje said, placing his cards on the table. Ahli sighed and motioned to Paul for a drink.
"Bradley, get the woman a drink," he said. "Let's make this a little more interesting." Everyone looked over at Paul, who smirked slightly. "Any time someone goes out, they have to take a shot." Sean nodded and put some shot glasses on the table; four regular sized and six larger ones for the Sangheili.
Garek raised a brow as Paul placed a bottle of Q'osa, Sangheilian whiskey, on the table. "Where did you get that?"
"Do I really need to answer that?" Paul said as Rtas sat at the table. "Oh, good evening Shipmaster."
"Captain," Rtas said. "Using my gift to you for games, I see."
"Yes sir. You're sure I'll be able to drink this without it killing me, right?" Paul said. When Rtas simply nodded, he continued, "Alright, lets play."
Ahli sighed as she drank down another shot. Paul, Rtas, and Garek smirked; they had had the fewest number of drinks so far. "No more," she said with a slight slur. "I am done." She pushed her chips away a laid her head on the table. "I hate you guys so much."
"I, however, do not," Ar'n said. "I love whiskey."
"If you do not eat something now, you will hate it in the morning," Rtas said. "I fold."
"And then there were two," Garek said, looking up at Paul.
"Think again," Paul said, laying his cards on the table.
Garek sighed, picking up his glass. "It's late. I am going to rest now." Everyone agreed; they had been at the table for nearly four hours.
Date: Monday, October 22, 2558
Ship Clock: 07:30 hours
Ar'n groaned as he opened his eyes, immediately squeezing them shut from the light above his bunk. "I told you," Rtas said.
"Why are you in my quarters?" Ar'n grumbled.
"To say that I told you so," Rtas stated. "And, you have drills to run this morning."
Ar'n sighed and rubbed his eyes, rolling onto his side afterward. "I'll be there in five."
"You were supposed to be there half an hour ago."
"Can you get out so I can get ready?" Ar'n said. "I... am not decent."
"I am not leaving this room until you are ready, Sergeant," Rtas said, turning around. He shook his head when he heard vomiting from the bathroom. "The Captain will give you your punishment."
"Punishment," Ar'n repeated, pulling on his uniform's jacket. "Why am I being punished?"
"For being late, Sergeant," Paul said from the doorway. "How's that hangover?"
"Ha-ha," Ar'n said sarcastically, sighing afterward. "What's my punishment?"
"You have probation until our next assignment; only on the military's time. No drinking while on that probation, free time or otherwise. You will have a drug screening every week during your probation; fail a screening, and you will not go on the next assignment. Finally, you have twice as many drills as everyone else, in less time; I don't care how you're feeling. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir," Ar'n sighed.
"What was that, Sergeant?"
"Yes sir," he repeated louder, wincing at the volume of his own voice.
"Get to the sparring ring, your partner is already waiting," Paul ordered.
"Drug screening?" Rtas said as Ar'n ran in the direction of the ship's arena. "I do not think he has a drinking problem, Captain."
"It's just part of the punishment, Shipmaster," Paul said as he turned for the arena himself. "Have a good day."
"You as well," Rtas said, turning for the Command Deck. "Something is troubling him," he thought as he walked down the corridor.
Location: Sparring Arena
Ship Clock: 08:00 hours
"I had it again," Paul said as he watched Ar'n go through his remaining drills.
Garek looked over at him. "The dream?"
Paul nodded. "It was different this time, though."
"Hmm. Would you like to talk about it?" Garek said, turning back to watch Ar'n.
"No," Paul replied. "It was just a dream, probably from that liquor."
"Maybe," Garek shrugged. "Did she have human eyes this time around?"
Paul thought for a moment. "I can't really remember. It's probably not important, anyway." He turned as Ar'n ran over and stood at attention. "Good, Sergeant. You fell behind, but I'll let it slide this time. Now, get in the sparring ring."
Ar'n quietly sighed as he stepped into the ring. "Who am I up against?" he said.
"That would be me," a woman's voice called from across the arena.
"Oh, good morning Councilor," Paul said as she approached them.
"Captain," Kara returned. "Ah, the sparring ring. I have not entered one in years."
"Maybe this will work to my advantage," Ar'n thought as Kara stepped in. Ar'n slowly opened his eyes to find himself looking at the ceiling. "Or not," he thought aloud.
"Do you need some help?" Kara said, extending her hand.
"Thank you, Excellency," he replied, taking her hand. "And I'm sorry." As Kara tilted her head, Ar'n yanked on her arm from the mat and brought her down onto her belly. He rolled onto her back, pinning her arms in the process and lightly punched a spot just below the base of her neck.
"I cannott move," she stated after the chime sounded and Ar'n stood.
"Just wait a moment, ma'am," Paul said from the rings border. "He hit a pressure point at the base of your neck; it sends a small shock through the nerves in your spine, causing a temporary paralysis."
Kara rolled over and took Ar'n's hand. "If we ever spar again, please do not do that." She turned towards Paul and Garek with a slight smirk on her face. "Unfortunately for you, I have excellent senses." She tapped the same spot on the back of Ar'n's neck, causing him to slump to the mat.
Ar'n simply sighed and waited for the sensation to pass; it wasn't the first time this had happened. He involuntarily shivered as he stood with the councilor's help. "Is there anything else to do today, sir?"
"No, we're done Sergeant. Just remember that you're on probation until the next assignment. Here, take these," Paul said, pulling out a couple of tablets. "They'll help with that hangover."
"Thank you," he said, taking the tablets. "Why are you giving me these now?"
"Let's just say that it was a test. Out in the field, you're not always going to be a hundred percent, none of us will be. Whether we're wounded, or sick, or just feeling downright shitty, we have to be able to get the job done." Paul paused to jot down a couple of notes. "We've seen that you can handle yourself while you weren't feeling well."
"Okay," Ar'n said. He didn't completely understand what Paul meant, but didn't ask.
"Go get breakfast, and then go see the Shipmaster to get your assignments for the day," Paul said.
"Assignments?"
"That's right, assignments; work. You're not just going to sit in your quarters all day."
"Yes sir," Ar'n saluted. Paul returned it and waved him off.
"You are sure you don't want to talk about it?" Garek said after both Ar'n and Kara had left.
"Yes, I'm sure," Paul sighed. "You said earlier that you had something else to show me?"
Garek thought for a moment and remembered the weapons he had found. "Yes, I did. What I found is in the armory. You'll know it when you see it."
"This is the one thing that I'm glad to have had in common with my father," Paul said as he looked over the weapons.
"And what would that be?" Garek said as Paul lifted the small rifle.
"Being a weapon enthusiast. This," he said indicating the rifle in his hands, "is an old German rifle. A Heckler & Koch G36C and the handgun is a Sig Sauer P226R." He inserted a magazine and walked over to the firing line.
Garek grabbed the pistol, finding it, much to his surprise, to be more comfortable in his hands than his M6G, albeit much smaller. He picked up a magazine, finding that this model fired .40 S&W ammunition. He inserted the magazine, pulled back the slide, and entered the booth next to Paul. "Here goes nothing," he mumbled, raising the handgun and firing. He found that the weapon was easier to keep on target while firing in quick succession, moreso than his M6G. He watched as Paul tore into targets, getting headshots or hitting center mass with ease.
"Damn," he said after the magazine was empty. "I almost like this better than my DMR."
"Did you want this?" Garek said, gesturing to the 226 in his hand.
"Nah, you can keep it. Why?"
Garek removed his M6D from his holster, replacing it with the 226. "It's a better sidearm than this thing; more comfortable and more accurate when firing rapidly," Garek answered as he signed the M6D into the armory. "I just need to get more ammunition for it...and modify it."
"You can do that in Tarasun. I think I saw a few cases of .40 S&W at the installation," Paul said as they exited. "Speaking of which, shouldn't we be just about there?"
"We should be, yes," Garek answered. "We could go find out."
Paul stopped walking suddenly, making Garek look back. "How far is it to the Command Deck?"
"About two minutes if you take the gravity lifts, ten if you walk. Why?"
Paul smirked. "Race you?"
"Do you honestly think you could outrun me?"
"It wouldn't be the first time I've had to," Paul said. Garek could only guess what he was talking about. "Go."
Rtas turned as a pair of boots thundered into the Command Deck, seeing Captain Fulmer laughing in the doorway as Garek stepped in. "Does that answer your question?" he heard the former say.
"Captain, what is going on?" Rtas said.
"Just a little race, Shipmaster," Paul answered.
Rtas shook his head. "What really brings you here?"
"We were just wondering how close we are to Sangheilios," Garek said.
"About another hour. I have received word that we will not be staying this time around."
"Damn it," Garek muttered.
Rtas nodded. "None of us like it, Lieutenant. I wish I could have been informed sooner, but we will be going back to Earth on a new assignment."
"A new assignment already?" Paul said. "That was quick..."
"I will give you what details I have while you are here," Rtas said, retrieving a datapad. "Apparently, that city from your first assignment has become a war zone. The UNSC has been taking heavy casualties from the local militia across the city and out in the surrounding countryside, most of which are from sniper fire."
"Do you think that this has something to do with Christian Fett?" Garek said.
"It is a possibility, Lieutenant. We will not know everything until we have you on the ground."
"Is it only going to be our two teams?" Paul said.
"Yes and no; your teams will be working alone, but I will have a few squads of my Spec Ops in the city," Rtas explained. "What will you do about Sergeant 'Drakos?"
"He's going," Paul stated. "If it's only the eight of us, we'll need him down there."
"Nine," Rtas corrected. "Corporal 'Asar will be coming along."
"Nine, then," Paul nodded. "We'll still need Ar'n down there if it's as bad as you say it is."
"I have not heard much good about the situation," Rtas sighed.
"What about our military?" Garek said. "Were they not deployed?"
"No. The UNSC High Command told us not to directly intervene, hence the Spec Ops teams. I suggest that you inform the others of this."
"That won't be necessary, Shipmaster," Ahli suddenly said from behind them; the others were with her. "Will we at least have time to inform our families?"
"They will be waiting for each of you once we arrive in Tarasun. You will only time to say your farewells and gather whatever equipment you may need. It is going to be a long assignment, from the looks of your orders."
Location: SAF Military Installation #1587, Sangheilios
Local Time: 10:27 hours
"Well," Garek began. "I guess this is it. A new war is starting."
"How can you be certain?" Shara said as they continued their embrace away from the others.
"I know a war when I see one," he replied. "It may simply be a coup right now, but...I just know."
"You'll be fine. Think about what you have been through."
"How could I forget? However, the war is not mine to fight this time around. It's none of ours," Garek said quietly.
"Yet, you're still going," Shara said. "You are right, it's not our fight, but we fight anyway."
"Why?"
"Because it's the right thing to do. We can't show these people that we will not allow ourselves to be trampled on if we stand off to the side, doing nothing. I shouldn't have to tell you this." She held him out at arms length. "Now stop stalling and say good-bye," she finished with a smile.
He sighed. "Farewell, Shara." He then took Lena from her. "And to you as well, child." The infant giggled as he nuzzled her. He paused briefly to look into her eyes before handing her back. "I'll be back, you have my word on that."
"Be careful out there," Shara whispered as he walked back to the waiting Phantom.
Garek sighed quietly as the doors closed and the craft gained altitude. "Good-byes are always the hardest part, my friend," Paul said from his side.
"Yeah," he agreed. "But I've been saying it far too often these past few months."
"But they weren't the last. This won't be either," Paul assured. "Have a little faith." Garek didn't reply as they boarded the Shadow of Intent and left for Earth again.